


Memory Amongst the Trees

by Morpheus626



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The elves of Mirkwood did not often speak of their lost Queen, yet none would let her story be forgotten. Spiders, death, and an infant son and husband left to cope make for a painful warning that in the wild of Mirkwood, even the strongest may not survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When the Leaves were Still Green

**Author's Note:**

> The topic of Legolas' mother is one I've been wanting to tackle for some time now; this is my attempt at that. Since we have so little information on her (all I've ever been able to find is that she must have existed for Legloas to be alive) I just kind of started writing and let it take me where it would, and the place it took me was rather sad. My apologies for that. I rated Teen and Up mostly for angst, because I was rather upset just writing it, so I assume others might have a similar reaction. The chapters are shorter as well, to help break up the action as well. I'm still not certain if chapters was the best way for this fic, but it seemed too long without them. 
> 
> I also added another original character other than Legolas' mother (along with a few other background characters who get one or two lines) in order to help flesh out the story a bit; I hope that won't be too much of a bother for anyone. This is also my first multi-chapter fic in an extremely long time, just a warning. Also, if you want to let me know what you think or share your thoughts on this piece; feel free to contact me at my tumblr: www.itsalwaysprettiestafterthefall.tumblr.com
> 
> As always, I do not own any of these characters except for my originals created for this work. The canon characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and the Jackson interpretations belong to Peter Jackson and his team. I'm simply having a bit of fun with the characters.

“No harm will come to me. My strength is returning, and I’ve not hunted in nearly a year. I’ll lose my skill with the bow if I don’t go out soon.” Lessil moaned. Already she had her bow and quiver at the ready, and was dressed to leave. 

Thranduil balked at the suggestion. “Legolas needs you here with him. I can’t have him on my shoulder during the meeting this afternoon—if anything he would take all of the attention, and we would get nothing done.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of his infant son’s head. Legolas slept happily in his arms, just two weeks old, and unaware of the veritable battle that would occur if his mother did not get her way. 

“You can’t make me stay.” Lessil did her best to seem threatening, but she hardly needed to bother. Thranduil sighed, and then crossed the room to her. 

“Be safe. We’ll expect the party back by nightfall at the latest.” He pulled her close, and she wrapped her arms around him. There was little reason to worry, and Thranduil knew it. His wife had headed more than her fair share of hunting parties, had taken down as many foes as he had in battle, if not more. He worried for her strength of course, so soon after the birth, but it was up to her if she felt strong enough to hunt. 

Lessil reached for Legolas as they parted. “Let me hold him now, since you’ll have him the rest of the day.” Legolas seemed more at home in Lessil’s arms; a fact that made Thranduil feel rather inadequate as a parent, despite Lessil’s many reassurances that their son’s alliance would change as soon as he was old enough to explore the forest. “Before you know it he’ll be leading the hunting parties alongside you, and I’ll be stuck here.” Lessil murmured as she handed Legolas back to Thranduil. 

“No. We’ll take turns, that way the spiders will have to deal with all three of us.” Thranduil joked, though in his heart the subject of the spiders weighed heavily. Each year there were more and more of them, and they seemed to encroach nearer and nearer the gates than ever before. The topic had been discussed to death between himself and his advisors, but no one had figured out why the spiders were acting as they were, or what should be done about them other than to send out hunting parties as often as possible to bring the population down. 

Lessil smiled, then bounded out of the room with her dark hair swinging behind her, bow and quiver in hand. Her excitement was wonderful to see; she had seemed so lethargic the first few days after the birth that Thranduil had worried she might begin to fade. He was grateful to see this was not the case. Thranduil watched, Legolas in arms, from the gates as the party of twelve left. Their best hunters, both male and female were in the party, and Thranduil felt a bit better at watching Lessil leave. She could take care of herself, but if trouble did occur then she was at least surrounded by the best fighters their settlement had to offer. Only once the party was no longer visible in the distance did Thranduil turn back to the hall, to meet with his advisors for the day. Legolas still slept peacefully, cradled gently in Thranduil’s arms. 

* * *

The day came and passed, and the party had not yet returned by dinner. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as some hunting parties would simply make camp in the forest if they were a great distance from the gates. However, Lessil’s party had not intended on going a great distance that day. Thranduil worried, despite his courtiers many reminders that nothing could have gone amiss with such great warriors in the party. He could not bring himself to eat, and instead excused himself to Legolas’ room, where their dark-haired nursemaid, both and kind and gentle, had fed and put the young prince to sleep for the night. Thranduil excused the nursemaid, and read to Legolas from the books that Lessil had placed in the room. Some about the history of the elves, with specific mention to Doriath; others were simple songbooks that she had bound herself. Thranduil read through them all several times before he found himself falling asleep. 

“My Lord, I really don’t mean to bother you but—it is morning sir, and I imagine you’ll want to put on fresh robes.” Thranduil turned his head to see the nursemaid in front of him, Legolas happy and gurgling in her arms. The sounds of his people echoed throughout the halls, and he realized that he had indeed fallen asleep where he had sat, leaned up against the wall of Legolas’ room. 

Thranduil attempted to calm his white-blond hair from the night’s disturbance (Lessil would have brushed it out for him by this time in the morning. It was nothing he asked of her; she simply enjoyed it. In return, he would brush and braid her hair.) 

“Of course. Thank you for waking me, or I might have spent the entire day here.” Thranduil reached for Legolas without even thinking about it, and the nursemaid handed him over with a small smile on her lips. 

Thranduil had just realized that he would have to let the nursemaid take Legolas again in order for him to be able to bathe and dress for the day when a male servant ducked his head into the room. 

“My Lord, some of the party has returned. I thought you might want to greet them at the gate.” The elf was rather out of breath, and had an odd look on his face. The nursemaid registered why before Thranduil. 

“What do you mean, ‘some’ of the party? Are they not all back?” She asked, looking to Thranduil with worry in her eyes. He seemed not to hear her, as he held Legolas closer and strode out of the room quickly, and headed for the gates. 

The five of the that had returned were covered in blood, wounded, and weaponless. Lessil was not among them. 

Thranduil observed this, but said nothing of it. First they would need healing, food and water. He could question them after they had been cared for. In the meantime, another party would be sent out to search for those who had not returned. It was his hope that they could not be far, perhaps a bit turned around by the forest but still close enough to the gates to be somewhat safe. Lessil would not have let herself fall into danger so easily, yet the thought of spiders kept Thranduil from becoming too hopeful. Elves had been lost to the spiders before, and they would be lost again. However, he did not know that he could bear to lose her.


	2. The Falling of the Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *See first chapter for main summary and notes*

By that evening the survivors were comfortable, and able to speak to Thranduil of what had occurred. The search party was back as well, and their effort had proved fruitless for the night. Thranduil had instructed the five to come to the throne room after dinner, to discuss what had happened in the woods. 

“I am not angry, please understand that. I am, however, upset at whatever has gone on, and I must know why only you five are back within our halls.” Thranduil struggled to hold his voice steady. A part of him wanted to weep, and another part of him wanted to go out to the woods on his own to find her and the rest of the party, forgoing all rest and sustenance if that were what the task would require. In his panic, Thranduil had commanded that Legolas not be out of his sight. The nursemaid had been kind enough to offer to stay by his side all day, and held Legolas now as she stood by the throne where Thranduil sat. 

“My Lord, there were too many. I wish I could say that this was false, but we were truly overtaken. For each spider we killed another rose, and we were all weakened by their poison. My Lord, we all tried to save the Queen. We would not see her—“The elf, a dark-haired male, broke down and began to weep. Thranduil’s heart began to break. 

“Are you telling me she is dead then? Did you all see her—“Thranduil could not bear to finish his thought. Lessil could not be gone. She could not be dead. Lost, perhaps, though she knew the woods as well as he did and so it seemed highly unlikely—but he would take lost before he would take dead. The elf before him only wept more, and a healer was called to take him back to his rooms in the healing wing of the palace. 

Three of the remaining elves had started to weep as well, and Thranduil dismissed them. The one remaining, a female elf with dark hair and blue eyes, strode forward despite the limp in her gait. He nodded to her, and she began to speak. 

“We were ambushed by a great many of the spiders. I believe we walked into the beginnings of a new nest, but with the lack of webs we normally see in the nests we failed to realize the danger. Lessil fought valiantly, as did we all, but they overtook us. As my companion said before; they were too great in number for us. The five of us were able to run, but the rest were captured by the spiders. The last I saw of them was when they were being trapped in the webs of the creatures.” The elf stopped abruptly, and looked up to Thranduil with pain in her eyes. “My Lord, I do not want to think that our Queen is dead. But even if she is not, then there is little time to spare to find her and the others. I worry, if the party sent out tonight did not find them…”She trailed off, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. 

“Go and rest. Thank you, for telling me what happened. If you can recall an approximate location for this new nest, then perhaps we can still find them.” Thranduil gestured to the doors, and the elf took her leave, the limp painfully prominent in her step. He admired her for staying to tell the tale, though she clearly was in pain from her injuries. He took Legolas from the nursemaid, then instructed her to gather as much as she could about the location of the nest from the survivors. 

“I think I would only intimidate them now. They need a friendlier face to speak with.” Thranduil adjusted Legolas against his shoulder as the nursemaid nodded in agreement. She strode purposefully from the room, and Thranduil had no doubt that they would be able to guess the location within a few hours. He stepped down from his throne, and walked to the quarters that he and Lessil had shared. Legolas whined against his shoulder, and it was then that Thranduil’s heart did fully break. Legolas had barely cried since his birth; at the birthing itself and the first time that Lessil had spent more than ten minutes away from him. Now the elfling had worked himself up to a full wail that echoed down the halls. 

Thranduil shut the door to their room quickly, bouncing lightly on his feet to try and quiet his son. It seemed that Legolas would not, could not, be calmed, and Thranduil broke down and wept himself. How could he manage without Lessil? To spend eternity alone…it was unthinkable. Worse yet, he remembered now the night they had talked of re-embodiment, and how she had been so certain that she would not let herself be re-embodied, how she had been so sure that she would have gone through too much pain in death to take the opportunity. If she was dead, then he would never see her again, nor would Legolas. 

His sobs were choked, and he tried desperately to calm himself for Legolas’ sake. Somehow, the nursemaid seemed to be aware of their peril, and had made her way to them after speaking briefly with the survivors. She walked through the door and joined them where Thranduil had crumpled to the floor, humming a lullaby under her breath. Normally, Thranduil would have been absolutely appalled at any courtiers or servants acting in such a manner, but he knew how much he owed her already. He would need her to help raise Legolas as well, on the days when he would have to lead the hunting parties, or would have to travel to distant meetings. He sobbed even harder when he realized he was already preparing for a life without Lessil.


	3. Leaves Crushed Along the Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *See first chapter for main summary*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rather short, and I apologize for that, but this was the next best place for a break within the text :)

Thranduil woke on top of his bed, still fully-clothed. The nursemaid and Legolas were gone, and for a moment Thranduil panicked. He calmed himself after a moment—the nursemaid (whose name he realized he did not know) had most likely taken Legolas to his room, and had probably even helped her King to his bed. Thranduil felt a bit bad for that, as Lessil had often complained that he was an absolute pain when he was exhausted, and if he did not want to sleep then she always had a battle convincing him to go to bed. The nursemaid had probably gone through hell to try and get him to give up Legolas and go to sleep. 

Thranduil bathed and dressed quickly, wondering what state his armor was in and whether or not his elk had been exercised by any of the stable hands within the past few days. The nursemaid, ever his savior, met him near Legolas’ room when he went to check on his son. 

“Your armor is shined and ready to be worn; the stable has already dressed your steed and Legolas has been fed breakfast. Everything is looked after.” She seemed a bit tired and stressed, and Thranduil felt even worse for his break-down the night before. He was her king, the king of them all, and he could not afford such displays when so many depended on him. 

“Good. I’ll head out with a small party in an hour or so. Legolas will be left in your care of course, and—“Thranduil stopped mid-thought. If Lessil had not returned, what was there to say that he would? He could not appoint an infant to rule in his stead, though the throne would belong to Legolas once he was of age, but until then who could he place on the throne? 

The nursemaid watched him, concerned. Thranduil turned and placed an arm on her shoulder. “Please forgive me, but I’m afraid I don’t know your name.” 

She looked a bit miffed at that, but simply sighed. “My name is Eithril, my Lord.” 

Thranduil sighed to himself then. This decision was rather quick, but he could think of none better at this time. The nursemaid had been in their employ for some time now (making the name issue rather more embarrassing) and she had always seemed to be intelligent in the matters of the kingdom. His advisors would probably be the expected panel of choices, but he was king, and if he chose to differ from their expectations then it was his right. “Eithril. Should I not return, I lay the responsibility of the throne to you. My advisors will become yours, and will help you in your duties. When Legolas is of age, he will take over the throne. Is this suitable to you?” He stood up to his full height, hoping a bit of an imposing air would keep her from saying no. 

Eithril bowed before him. “If this is what you ask of me my Lord, then so it shall be. I have not been groomed for the throne but—“ 

Thranduil wrapped her in a hug. “But you would do a wonderful job nonetheless. You have proven yourself well to me these past few weeks, and even during the months before my son’s birth. If your dedication to the Prince is so strong, then surely you will care for the rest of the kingdom well.” 

Eithril smiled at that. “I’ll need not care for them. Go. Find the Queen. Legolas will be here waiting for the two of you to return.” 

Thranduil straightened the circlet around his head, then turned to walk to the armory and stables. No more daylight could be wasted. He would find Lessil, of that he was sure.


	4. Leaves Blackened and Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *see first chapter for summary*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter here, though hopefully not too long. Again, splitting the action got a bit difficult, so this chapter ended up needing to be a bit longer than expected.

Hours passed like minutes in the woods. Beside him rode four other elves, a few more of their army that had volunteered to join the search party. The location of the new nest was further out than Thranduil had expected, but other than that it seemed easy enough to find. Sure enough, it was a prominent landmark now, as the spiders had been busy over the past hours. The webs were thick now, and the entrance to the nest was difficult to make out until a spider crawled out through it. 

Thranduil took a moment to remind his soldiers of the battle plan, then led the charge. Spiders poured out of the nest, and he could see now how Lessil’s party had been overtaken. Their swords clanged and clashed endlessly against the thick carapaces of the spiders, and he began to fear that there was no end to the line of the creatures. Just as the battle seemed too fierce, too tiring, did he see her. Lessil, pale and seemingly exhausted, sprang from a copse of trees with three of her party behind her. Despite their wounds and obvious illness from the spider’s poison, the four fought alongside him and his four until finally the stream of creatures stopped. 

There were no words then, no time for any in case the spiders should start to come again. His four soldiers each took an injured elf from Lessil’s party on their steeds, and Thranduil pulled Lessil up to join him on his elk. The rode hard back to the gates of the palace, exhausting their steeds and themselves, though the effort was well worth it. The healers were right at the gates, ready with balms and salves and wrappings. 

Eithril stood off to the side of the mess of activity, with Legolas in her arms. Thranduil mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to her as he followed Lessil and her assigned healer to the healing wing. 

“I knew you’d find them!” Eithril’s voice rang out down the hall, and Thranduil felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. She had such faith in him, in his ability to save them all. But there was no way to know now if Lessil, or any of the others, would survive their injuries. All they could do was hope that the healers were skilled enough, and that the injuries were not too grievous. 

* * *

Thranduil ended up sleeping in his armor that night leaned up against the wall in the hall near Lessil’s room. It was extremely uncomfortable, but he couldn’t bear to be away from her. The healer had warned him that they had done all they could, and that they would simply have to wait and see if she recovered. Out of all the elves from the original party of twelve Lessil had been poisoned the most, and it was yet to be seen if it would leave her system without any more damage. The other three seemed to be doing well, but the danger had not passed for them either. Worse yet, it was confirmed that they had lost four of the original party; the unfortunate elves had been eaten by the spiders. He shuddered to think of their fate, and wished he could have saved them as well. 

Eithril was the one who woke him. “My Lord, I’m told the Queen is awake. You ought to go and see her sir, before she falls asleep again. I’ll wait out here with the Prince, and you can call me in if you think she’s well enough to handle more visitors.” 

Thranduil rose slowly, the clanking of his armor a painful sound to them all. He pushed through the door to Lessil’s room slowly, feeling every ache and pain that he hadn’t yet let the healers look at. 

Lessil was still extremely pale. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his footsteps, and she smiled weakly. “Hello, dear. Don’t tell me you spent all night in all of that bloody armor.” 

He grinned nervously, looking down and realizing just what a mess he looked. Her critique reminded him of when they’d first met, and she had poked fun at him by claiming that his armor seemed not to fit him well enough. He’d been well aware she was joking, of course, and that joke had carried on long since then, with her reciting nearly every time he’d gone out to hunt. 

“Are you feeling any better? The healers tell me—“ 

“The healers have done their job well. Come sit by the bed, love.” Lessil motioned to the ornate wooden chair just near the head of the bed. 

Thranduil sat gently down in the chair, trying to keep his armor from clanging together. He took her hand in his, and pressed his lips to it and closed his eyes. She only ever called him ‘love’ so much when she had something to tell him that he didn’t want to hear. He couldn’t keep the tears from falling, for he knew what she was going to say. 

“Please don’t weep, love. This isn’t easy for me to say, or to admit. But I can feel the poison even now, and I know it cannot be stopped. The healers have done what they could, and I am grateful to them for it. I want nothing more than to stay with you, but—“Lessil’s voice hitched in her throat, and Thranduil opened his eyes as he realized she was crying as well. 

“I know Legolas will grow up well. Eithril will continue to help you—“Lessil stopped mid-sentence, and met his eyes for a moment. “You only just learned her name, didn’t you?” 

Thranduil couldn’t keep from chuckling. “I think I made up for it by leaving her the throne if I had died yesterday.” 

Lessil smiled again, and gripped his hand tighter. “I have no doubt you will keep our people safe. You are a good king, my love, even though you don’t always believe it. I just ask that you make sure Legolas remembers me; I can’t imagine he’ll remember much of me on his own once he’s older, so you’ll need to tell him of me.” 

Thranduil lost his composure at that, and pulled away from her and out of the chair. Lessil watched as he angrily stripped himself of his armor, then crawled gently beside her in the bed. “He will know everything of you. He’ll have your skill with the bow, I’m certain of that. He will never forget you.” Thranduil pressed his face into her shoulder. “Nor will I.” 

They lay like that for another hour before Lessil passed. There was a brief mention of re-embodiment again to Lessil, but she had once again refused the opportunity. “I have had my adventure, and there is too much pain, my love. I cannot. I’m so sorry.” 

Her passing was horrible. Utterly silent, except for her last breath, and the physical feeling of loss that Thranduil experienced. Part of his spirit seemed to have gone with her, and it was ripped away as cruelly as seemed possible. He wept then, loudly and without abandon, not caring who heard. The healers gave him another hour with her, but then came in and pulled him away. One female healer slipped a locket into his hand as they herded him to the hall; later on that evening he would open it to find a small lock her hair inside, most likely clipped quickly by that same healer. It was only then that he remembered that the locket was Lessil’s, and that she had been wearing it the day she left with the hunting party. He slipped the necklace over his head, and swore a silent oath to never take it off.


	5. Remnants of Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *see first chapter for summary*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit more like an epilogue than anything else, so it is shorter than the other chapters. Hopefully it wraps the whole thing up in a satisfactory manner. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading! I'm planning on doing more fics with Thranduil and his family, so if you liked this keep an eye out for those :)  
> (though I will try and keep the new fics a bit less angst-filled--no guarantees though.)

He laid in what had been their room for two days, Lessil’s locket cold against his chest, only moving to bathe and pick at what food the servants left for him. Eithril came in on the second day. 

“My Lord, the advisors are asking after you, as is everyone else. Legolas has cried nearly every other hour since her passing; he needs you. I know he does not realize quite what has gone on, but he knows his mother is gone, and I believe he fears his father will follow her.” Eithril’s voice was harsh, but Thranduil knew she was right. His people and his son needed him. He could not just get up and forget Lessil; he never would forget her. But he could make it through each day, and he could take care of those who needed him. That would have made Lessil happy to see. 

Wordlessly, he rose from his bed and dressed after Eithril left the room. His first task was to address his advisors and prepare a statement for the rest of the kingdom, to assure all that he was still their king, strong and prepared to protect them. After he had done that, he went to Legolas’ room. 

Eithril was there, and seemed to understand that he needed to be alone with his son. She passed Legolas to him without a word, and went to finally have a moment of rest for herself. Thranduil held his son close, and spoke barely stopping for breath. He told his son every memory he had of his wife, and of what she had done and what she believed and loved. He wasn’t sure when he started to cry, but it mattered not. Legolas lay quiet on his shoulder, awake and listening intently to every word. 

“You will not ever have to worry about forgetting her. You’ll be just as strong as she was, and I know she would be so proud of what you’ll achieve. You are her son just as much as you are mine. I will never let anything harm you Legolas. You are all I have left of her, and I love you.” Thranduil pressed a kiss to his son’s head, and murmured Lessil’s favorite lullaby to him.


End file.
